


Kindred

by Irith



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irith/pseuds/Irith
Summary: Munehisa Iwai, an ex-samurai, takes on a bounty in the village of Tokai.





	1. The Arrival

The hot summers air is stifling. Around him, the trees are motionless. There branches hang low, sagging under the heat. The sounds of cicadas screech in the air, sending him into a trance like state. He feels the prickle of something other than sweat along his neck. With the slap of his hand, he manages to flatten a mosquito.

 _Gotcha._ Pulling his hand away and he rubs the remains of the bug on a nearby tree. 

It was just his luck that the village he needs to go to was stuck in the middle of nowhere. With a horse, the journey would have been quick, maybe even pleasant, but he didn’t have such luxuries. The journey had been long and tiresome. During it, he had considered returning back multiple times, but his own stubbornness had stopped him. Now that he was on the last part, it would take more than the summer’s heat to stop him. 

Beyond him is a mile long stretch of uphill. With a sigh, he adjusts himself, and wills himself to move faster. The quicker he is out of the sun, the better. 

Once he reaches the top of the hill he is greeted with the sight of Tokai. It’s a small village, situated between two hills and surrounded by a wooden wall. Faint trails of smoke from the wooden houses stain the blue sky. Outside the walls are long sweeps of paddy fields, with farmers braving the heat and collecting their harvest. It was no different than the countless villages he had passed through to get here. Quiet and unimposing. 

The farmers see his approach first, pausing from their work to watch him. Then, guards who are  positioned on the wall point and gather. Being in the middle of nowhere, Iwai supposes the main highlight of their day would be to see a stranger visiting them. Especially one who is carrying a sword by their side. Iwai knows that it won’t be long until their wonder vanishes, replaced by discomfort or disgust. Upon first glance, they wouldn’t be able to notice the stains on his hakama’s or the loose threads on his sandals. It’s only when they look more closely, does the illusion of a noble samurai wear off. 

He comes to a stop outside the village’s walls. The guards continue to stare at him. He squares his shoulders back. Despite his impoverished appearance, he still has dignity in the way he carries himself.

“Are you here for the bounty?” They call out. 

Iwai refrains the urge to roll his eyes. “Of course.”

They turn to whisper to each other. Iwai waits and expects them to open the door for him, but instead they remain still, recluntant. His impatience starts to grow. He didn’t travel all the way out here for them to refuse him entry. “Um, just to let you know, you’re not the first. A samurai came by yesterday… he’s probably already claimed the bounty by now.” 

“Just open the gates.” He snaps. The information barely registers in his mind, the heat is making him impatient. The thought of resting and drinking is on the forefront of his mind. 

The large wooden doors open, revealing a long road with small thatched houses on either side. There are a few women and children dotted in between them, going about their daily routines. Those who are close enough to hear the doors open, stop and watch him. 

He passes the guards without asking for directions, his attention is fixed on a well. Taking the bucket next to it, he drinks the water inside. The water is warm, but it quenches his dry throat. With the last of the water, he sprinkles it over his hair and face, trying to get rid of the sweat and dirt.

“Excuse me.” A shrill voice comes from his side. He slowly lowers the bucket and looks at the group before him. There are four young men, standing next to a finely dressed older couple. The woman looks at him with disgust whilst the man besides her looks amused. 

“Welcome to Tokai. My name is Tadochi Kursawa, I’m the chief of this village.” The older man greets him warmly. “This is my wife, Kimto Kursawa and my sons.” He gestures to the men around him. Iwai notices that two of them are carrying swords. 

He nods to Tadochi instead of bowing. Kimto’s face tightens at what she deems as disrespect.  “Munehisa Iwai.” He returns. He’s too far away for his name to mean anything to them. 

“Would you like to come inside my house? We can discuss our matters there.” Tadochi motions towards the house down at the bottom of the road.

“Sure.”

He walks besides the chief and the rest follow behind them. Their eyes bore into his back, watching for any signs of hostility. The fact that they stand behind him with swords should bother him, but he doesn’t see any reason for them to attack him. 

The chief’s house is the largest in the village, made from wood and thatched straw. The design of the house is purely functional, no expense has been spared for lavish decorations. Tadochi opens the door and motions for him to come inside. Inside looks unimpressive. He takes his sandals off before following Tadochi to the main reception room. The room is sparsely decorated, with only a wooden table and a few paintings hanging from the walls. The only item he can see that is of moderate value is a teapot. Steam rises from its spout. 

 _‘Tch, who can drink tea in this heat?’_ He raises an eyebrow but says nothing. 

Tadochi’s sons sit behind the chief and his wife to his right. Iwai takes the space opposite to him. Before they speak, a servant ushers inside and offers them tea. He shakes his head. 

“So, the guard mentioned that somebody’s already been here for the bounty?” He asks. Now that he’s out of the sun, the realisation that he might have to travel all the way back empty-handed is starting to dawn on him. 

“Yes, somebody has been. They went to investigate the area that the… last victim was found, but they haven’t returned since they left yesterday.”

“I’m guessing that’s a bad sign?”

Tadochi sighs, worry creasing the sides of his eyes. “The journey there should only take a few hours. I don’t think we’ll know whether they’re successful or not until tomorrow.” 

“So, who’s the bounty for?” The only information he knows is village’s name and the bounty. Usually he would have asked for more. 

“We… don’t exactly know just yet.”

“You haven’t found the culprit?” 

“Well-”

“All what we know is that our sons are being targeted.” The same shrill voice from before interrupts him. Kimto sips her tea, regarding him with a blank stare. It’s a face that most gambler’s would be envious of. “So far, two of them have been killed.” 

Iwai purses his lips. It had been foolish of him not to ask more questions before embarking on the journey and now he was paying the price. Playing detective and searching for clues meant staying for longer. It wasn’t his speciality. 

“Do you have any idea who it might be? Any witnesses?” 

Tadochi shakes his head. “Taito is a very quiet village, for decades we’ve kept to ourselves and avoided any conflicts with our neighbors. We aren’t a village worth stealing from. I’m sure you can already tell by looking around.” He waves to the room. “I cannot think of anything that somebody would want for us.”

“Any letters? Ransom notes?” 

“No, nothing.”

He sighs. In his experience, murders were usually divided into two categories. Revenge; ex-lovers would wanted to punish their spouses or families who had been dishonoured. Greed; which was pretty straight forward and could be easily figured out by seeing stolen money or jewelry or ransom notes demanding a price to be paid. The ones which didn’t fall into those categories were more difficult to figure out. 

“You’ll have to give me some time to find who’s responsible.” 

Tadochi nods, his shoulders sagging a little. “Of course.” 

Iwai leans back on his hands and considers his options. Investigating the area where their last son had died was a good idea, but the sun would be setting soon. There was also a chance that the samurai before him had been successful in finding the killer, beating him to the catch. “I’ll have to wait until the other guy gets back.”

“And… if he doesn’t return?” Tadochi asks carefully. 

“Then you’ll have to explain to me where this place is and get ready to take me there.”

Tadochi smiles politely. “Yes, I will, tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, please take one of our rooms. Tonight is also our monthly banquet, we won't be attending, but I would be honoured if you’d join.” 

His instant reaction is to decline, but he knows how empty his stomach is. The last time he’d eaten had been in the morning, hoping to find something on his journey to eat. With water and a room, his next priority is food.  “I might drop by.”

Two of Tadochi’s servants guide him to his room. It’s a small guest room, with nothing more than pair of blankets laid out on the wooden floor. Two sliding doors had been pulled open, letting the hot air flow through. Outside their is back garden, a modest patch of land with a few planted flowers and bushes. Nothing special. 

When the servants leave he removes the bag from his shoulder and sets his sword down. Opening his bag, he peers inside. A bag which used to be filled with rice now only has a few grains left. A canteen that carried enough water for him to replenish at the various rivers and lakes he’d passed. His most valued item, is wrapped in many layers of cloth. Checking that the door is closed, he peels the cloth away. A flintlock gun, made from iron and wood. Over the years it has gathered a few scratches. The wood at the hilt had even begun to splinter. Despite its condition, the gun was still reliable. Knowing that the humidity would worsen the wood, he quickly wipes over its surface before putting it back away. There weren’t many objects of value he still had. The guilt of still keeping it, rather than selling still hangs heavy in his chest. 

Spreading himself out on the floor, he allows himself a few hours of sleep before dinner. 

 

\-----

 

He wakes up to the sound of a door sliding open. Immediately, he gets up and reaches for his sword. A startled pair of eyes greet him. The maid presses herself against the door. Before he can say anything, she drops down to the floor and starts to apologize. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” He sighs, relaxing. Whilst she takes her time to compose herself, he turns to look outside the open doors. The garden is now painted in golden colours, the sun is starting to set. Already the air is starting to feel much cooler. 

When the maid recovers, she informs him that the banquet had already started. Attaching his sword to his sash, he leaves. Instead of heading straight outside, he walks leisurely through the house. Most doors are closed, but what rooms he can see in are even more unimpressive as the reception room. ‘ _How exactly can his man afford this bounty?’_ He wonders

Walking towards the main doorway, he can hear the chatter of people and the clattering of bowls beyond the door. It’s noisier than it had been before. When he steps outside he’s greeted with the smell of food. The main street has transformed. No longer empty, it’s filled with what looks like the entire village. Two huge bowls of rice and stew hangover a burning fire, with villagers collecting their portions of food before taking a seat with their groups of friends. Over to the far left he spots three of Tadochi’s sons, sat together amongst the villagers. When the youngest locks eyes with him, he smiles and waves him over. Reluctantly he joins them. Without any bowl to get food he can’t pretend to ignore him.

“Iwai-san! Come sit down with us.” They’ve all finished eating. When he sits down their attention turns to him. 

“Ah, my father forgot to introduce us all… My name is Hiroshi and this is Haruto and Nori.” The youngest speaks first, gesturing to his brothers next to him. They don't stand out from the other villagers. The only signs of their status are the swords that Haruto and Nori carry. Nori casually rests on his hands whilst Haruto sits with his spine tall, regarding him with the same blank look like his mother. 

It takes them a while to realise that he doesn’t have a bowl to use.  He doesn’t mention that hes broken his only bowl on the journey here. When they pass him over one of theirs, he quickly excuses himself to fill his bowl with what food is left. He eats in silence and listens to them talk. They speak of nothing interesting, just day-to-day chores and meaningless gossip. The type of stuff that would usually send him to sleep. 

Shortly after he finishes his food, bottles of sake are being passed around. Despite the circumstances haunting the village, the atmosphere feels warm and friendly. Chatter and laughter fills the night’s air. The brothers understandably don’t join the villages in their merry spirits. 

“So, did any of you piss somebody off that your father doesn’t know about?” He isn’t here to socialise or gain any friends. Rather than meandering delicately around what he wants to ask, he prefers to cut straight to the point.

Haurto and Nori look taken back by the question. What did they expect, a polite conversation?  The tension in the air shifts. “No, we barely leave the village and we don’t visit any of the bigger towns… we all get along here.” Nori answers.

“Tch. Don’t lie to me, kid.”

“Excuse me, I’m not-”

“You’re telling me, that you don’t sneak out to enjoy the city life?”

“We go maybe twice a year.” Nori adds.

Iwai laughs. “Sure.” 

“We are.” Nori replies with more emphasis. 

“Then what about any jilted lovers? Any of you seeing a fancy village girl that one of your brothers likes instead?” 

“None of us are in relationships right now.” 

“That, I also find hard to believe.” He shakes his head. Although his teenage life was decades ago, he knows how bored he would’ve been stuck in a village like Taiko. “Y’know the only way I can find the person responsible if you’re honest with me”

“Listen-” Haruto leans over his brother, finally speaking. “-you’re only here for the money. We want to find this killer more than you. There’s no need to act so rude, ronin.” He spits the word out like an insult. Iwai’s heard the word more times than he can count. It passes through him like any other. 

Hiroshi raises his hands, trying to soften some of the tension. “Nobody’s being rude. We all want the same thing.” Ignoring his brother, Haruto stands up. When he leaves Nori follows after him, attempting to calm him down. The awkwardness that follows doesn’t bother Iwai. Poking and drawing honest reactions was part of the game of figuring out the truth. 

Hiroshi turns his eyes downward, to his empty cup. “Sorry about that. Haruto isn’t handling this very well.” 

“Isn’t it dangerous for you all to be out tonight?” It seems dumb to Iwai that the three of them are outside at night time. 

“Uh, well... Yeah, probably. My father didn’t like the idea of us coming out, but… we have to put up a brave face.” He lifts his head, casting his attention around him. “Especially if the killer is out there now. I don’t want him to think we’re scared.”

Iwai sighs. _How stupid._ “You should listen to your father.” He can’t help think of Kaoru. There are similarities between him and Hiroshi that goes beyond being the same age. From their brief interaction he can tell that Hiroshi is shier than his brothers. He wears the same polite smile on his face, even though he can see the sadness in his eyes. Iwai tries to block the memory of Karou before it interferes with his line of thinking.

Silence settles between them for a moment. Iwai leans back and takes a cup of sake. The rice wine warms his throat and chest, enough to let some of the tension slide from his body. It’s been a few years since the last time he had the opportunity to drink it. In the silence that falls between them, he watches the rest of the village. 

“When you find the person responsible for my brother’s deaths...are you going to kill them?” Hiroshi asks. 

Iwai considers his question. Most bounties were usually turned in with the culprit dead. It was easier that way. Most wanted men would fight back, knowing that death awaited them. A bounty was just as good as an order issued to kill a person. 

“I’ll see.” He shrugs. He doesn’t want to admit to the kid that he hadn’t really thought about the other option. It always seemed inevitable that he would have to use his sword.

Hiroshi sighs, chewing his bottom lip. “Even after everything…. I don’t wish for them to serve the same fate. I don’t think any more bloodshed will solve anything.” 

“It’ll put an end to the murders.” Iwai adds. 

Hiroshi looks up and studies him. “You’re right, but I still don’t think it’ll be the right thing to do…”

Iwai shakes his head at the boy’s naivety. He isn’t in any position to convince him otherwise. He’s just a stranger. Finishing another cup of rice wine, he stands up. “Alright, it’s passed your bedtime. I’ll walk you back.”  

Hiroshi doesn’t argue. They stand up and walk back to the house together in silence. Hiroshi says his farewell when he reaches his room. Iwai watches him fall down onto a pile of blankets and closes the door after him. 

The house is quiet at this hour. The noises of the banquet are muffled behind the layers of wood and rice paper. Iwai walks back through the house, reaching his room. A thin strip of white light comes out from his room. A lantern has been lit inside. _One of the maids_ , he thinks nonchalantly. 

Inside a figure stands in the doorway leading out to the back garden. Upon hearing Iwai they turn around. Their eyes lock together. 

In the soft warm light of the lantern, Iwai can make out most of the figure. A younger man, dressed in an black outfit. They look different to the other villagers. His skin is paler than the local’s tanned, coarse skin and his hair is black and wavey. It’s long enough to be pulled back in a simple red tie. Even though they similar in height, the other looks much younger. Probably a few years older than Karou. [(X)](https://flic.kr/p/2gkWRRo)

“You’re in my room.”

He looks startled, as if intruding in on him hadn’t been surprising enough. 

After a few seconds of recollection, a calm and confident expression shifts over him. “Sorry. I didn’t realise.” Pulling away from his eyes, Iwai quickly searches around for any sign of weapons. From what he can see, there are none. 

“So what brings you wandering around this house at this time of the night? Haven’t you heard that there’s a murderer on the loose?” It was hard to believe that he could have bumped into the culprit on the same night that he’d arrived, but criminals had been caught over smaller mistakes.

The boy smiles. Not exactly the type of reaction a typical criminal would show after being caught. “You’re… the ronin that everybody’s talking about.” 

“Yeah, so what?” 

“I’m just curious…” He shrugs and steps forward.  At the slightest raise of his foot, Iwai instinctively shifts back and readies his hand over his sword. Realising his mistake, he stands still and raises his hands a little. 

“I just wanted to meet you to give you some information about the murders.” 

“Couldn’t that have waited until the morning?”

“I won’t be here tomorrow morning.” 

Iwai watches him, searching for any signs of deceit. Dealing with a lot of criminals and other delinquents in his life had given him the ability to be able to get a good read on people. It had been what had kept him alive for so long. It could’ve hurt to hear what he had to say, even if it was a lie.

“Alright, speak then.” 

“Have you heard the rumours about the murders?”

“I’m not interested in rumours, kid. You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.” 

“You should be, there might be truth to them.” He relaxes his body slightly.  “They say that whoever killed those brothers, wasn’t human.”

 _Of course the villagers would make up a ghost story regarding the murders._ He resists the urge to sigh.

“Sure, I guess something like this will spark people’s imaginations. It’s not like they have much to talk about anyway.” Any sort of murder shrouded in mystery was bound to start a few stories about the supernatural. Iwai had seen it happen many times. 

“If you knew what the state of their bodies were in, you’d probably think the same.” The moonlight catches his eyes. They are devoid of any colour, like two dark pools. “They don’t look like a human has killed them.” Gaining in confidence, he leans back slowly, resting on the doorway. Iwai tries to avert his eyes away when he sees his shirt drift down, revealing more pale skin. 

“Sounds like nonsense to me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, kid, ghosts don’t exist. It’s either an animal or one of us. Sorry to burst your bubble.” 

“You should be more open to other possibilities.” 

“Listen-” 

“I’m sorry to bother you. I’m only here to tell you what I know.” He moves up from the door. “I have a feeling we might meet again. Good luck with your investigation, Munehisa.” The conversation ends abruptly, before he can ask anymore questions. He twirls back onto the walkway outside and disappears from his view. When he moves forward to inspect the walkway he can’t find the other anywhere. 

 _Just like some stupid ghost story_ , he chides. Lowering his hand from his sword, he shuts the sliding door. Even though the door is only made out of rice paper and bamboo, its enough to chase off the feeling of his privacy being invaded. Before sleeping, he checks inside his bag to make sure nothing had been stolen. His gun is still there.

Tiredness dawns on him after the wave of adrenaline fades away. He doesn’t know who he just encountered. Everything ought to scream that he’d just crossed paths with the murderer, but the feeling didn’t sit right with him. It would be too easy and something tells him that this wasn’t going to be an easy bounty to catch. He calls it intuition. Nothing spiritual, just from years of dealing with the worst of society and knowing that patterns crimes took. 

He blows the flame in the lantern out before setting himself down on the floor, sleeping beside his sword.


	2. The bond of blood

Iwai wakes to the sound of birds chirping. He pulls himself up from the floor and stretches his body to ease the aches that journey had brought. Sliding the back door open, he sits on the walkway. The morning sky is blank, blue canvas without any smudges of white. A burning golden sun is beginning to rise. Heat will soon follow it. Iwai knows that it’s the coolest it’ll be throughout the day, so he takes the time to enjoy it.

He pulls out a piece of sugar cane from inside his bag. It's a habit he's taken up ever since he'd stopped smoking. The sweet taste soothes his urge to taste tobacco. When he finishes the sugar cane, he hears a knock on the door. This time the maid waits for his response before opening the door.

“Good morning sir.” She keeps her head low to the ground. “My master would like you to know that breakfast is ready.” To her side she pulls out a bowl and a clean towel, leaving it inside the room for him. It’s filled with warm water. Taking the cloth, he cleans himself the best he can. The last time he bathed was in Kyoto. Speckles of dirt have gathered on his legs from the long journey there. It's a relief to wipe some of the sweat away. When he finishes, he dresses himself.

Tadochi and his sons are sat inside the dining room. He looks up from his food and smiles in greeting. “Ah, good morning Iwai-san.” Iwai sits down opposite to Tadochi and takes the bowl of food before him. He grunts in response and eats in silence. 

“I’m sorry to bother you so soon, but I’m afraid the samurai hasn’t come back.” 

This doesn't surprise him.

“That’s a shame.” He should care like Tadochi does, the man’s features are etched in concern, but he doesn’t. There’s a chance for him to finish the bounty. To pick up where he left off. “Can somebody show me where to go today?”

“I can arrange for that.”

After finishing his food, he returns back to this room and takes his bag with him. He keeps his gun concealed for now. When he leaves the house he sees Hiroshi waiting by the front door. He’s carrying a bag over his shoulder and has an eager gleam in his eyes. He can tell before he opens his mouth what he’s going to say. 

“Not a wise idea, kid.” He continues past him, as if he never saw him. “Go find somebody else to take me.” 

Hiroshi catches up to his side, walking quickly to match his long strides.

“I know the route, I’m perfectly capable of taking you there.”

“That ain't the issue. Your father is gonna be pissed at both you and me if he finds out you’re gettin’ involved.” 

“He won’t find out-”

“Look, kid, I ain't got time to do any baby sittin’.” He comes to a stop and stands still. He’s much taller than Hiroshi and uses his height to his advantage, leering over him. The last thing he wants is for the bounty to turn into a family drama.

To his surprise, Hiroshi doesn’t falter or back away. “I can take you there and be back before my dad notices. Doesn’t it make sense anyway? If I’m bait I can lure the killer out so that you can collect your bounty.” 

Iwai sighs.  _ Does this kid really think I’m that much of a bastard? _

“He’s killed my brothers, Iwai, let me come.” His jaw is set. There’s a fire burning in his eyes, the determined face of somebody who's too young to understand the dangers ahead but still wants to keep charging forwards no matter what. It would be wrong for him to accept his help, he could get in the way if anything happens, not to mention if Tadochi found out it would cause a lot of issues. He also knows that it would be wrong for him to deny him the chance to catch his brother's killer.

“Fine, but let’s do this quickly.”

He starts to walk again with Hiroshi behind him quietly celebrating his victory and hopes that he hasn’t made a mistake. 

 

\-----

 

When they start the trek up along the mountain, the heat is beginning to pick up from the approaching midday sun. Part of their journey is through a forest, similar to the one he’d walked through to get here. For the most part it's pleasant, the trees providing shelter from the intense rays of the sun. They follow a path marked with stone steps, leading them through the greenery. Eventually they reach the edge of the forest, where the trees clear and the path becomes narrower. The path winds up along the mountain, hugging the side.

Hiroshi takes a break, drinking from a leather skin canteen. 

“Where exactly are we going?” He asks for the first time.

“A graveyard.” 

It’s not quite the location he'd expected.

“My brother… Daisuke… was visiting my other brother’s grave when the murderer got to him.” Hiroshi looks hard down onto the floor. Sweat rolls down his temple. “Some people have no sense of decency. He was only there to pay his respects.”

A graveyard was a good location. Mourning visitors would be too distracted to pay attention to their surroundings. It was far away from the village, giving the culprit enough space and time to dispose of them without the risk of any interference. T

Seeing the distant look on Hiroshi's face, he chooses not to voice his thinking out loud. Instead of comforting, he decides to change the conversation.

“So, whose stupid idea was it to build a graveyard up here?”

 

\-----

 

The heat rises with each step that take up along the mountain. Constantly walking uphill is starting to put a strain on his thighs. Hiroshi lags at times, trying to catch his breath. He wonders how anybody slightly unfit could manage the journey.

The path disappears at times, becoming overgrown by weeds and grass. Eventually it returns, reassuring him that Hiroshi hasn't gotten lost. After walking for another hour, they pass a small stone shrine. Inside sits a small figurine, surrounded by bundles of flowers and unlit candles. The figure is shaped like a human with a spiked masked hiding its face. Iwai doesn’t recognise it. He’s used to seeing foxes or smiling budhas, but it’s not like he spends much time at shrines either to know what it is.  _ Probably a weird local thing.  _

He continues forward, behind Hiroshi and says nothing. 

After an hour, they finally reach a tall tori gate, marking the entrance to the graveyard. The gate looms over them, without a shadow in the midday sun. Moss has started to grow over it, creeping up along the long pillars. Beyond the gate Iwai can see rows of tall gravestones with names etched into them. It’s quiet, not even the annoying sound of cicadas have followed them here. 

“Alright, stay close.” Now that they're here, the dynamic has changed. The potential danger of the killer still being here, although unlikely, hangs over them.

The cemetery is large for just a small village. From what he can see, it consists of three different levels. Steps lead up and down between them, making it impossible to do a quick scan over the area. So far he can’t see anything out of the ordinary. No ghosts or dead bodies, just a boring collection of gravestones and whittling flowers. Once he finishes looking over the first level, he continues up to the next. 

As he moves up along the steps he can’t help but feel tense. They're almost guaranteed to find a body and he doesn't know how Hiroshi will react to the sight of it. When he reaches the last few steps he sees a different shape to the tall pillars of the gravestones. His eyes follow up a piece of hanging fabric, reaching the arm of a person. A blunt edge of a gravestone impales through them, erupting from their chest and suspending them up in the air. Before he can think to stop Hiroshi he hears him gasp.

“Oh my god.” Hiroshi kneels and clamps his hands over his eyes.

Annoyance prickles him at Hiroshi's display of fragility. Before he lets it show, he has to remind himself that Hiroshi's reaction is normal. Most people would flinch at the sight. Decades of living in violence has numbed him to sights like this. Leaving him to settle, Iwai approaches the corpse again. He takes in the sight, waiting for disgust to reach him. It never does.

It’s clearly the samurai. His head hangs back, presenting a traditional top knot hairstyle. Around his neck there is a white sash, with a symbol on it. Four blacks diamonds sit next against each other, creating another larger diamond. The Takeda’s family crest. At the foot of the gravestone there’s an unsheathed katana, without any blood on it.  _ Didn’t even get a chance to use it _ . Which doesn’t make sense. He’s heard of the Takeda clan, most samurai or ronin have. They’re known for their excellent military skills, the samurai they enlist are considered to be the best.

Iwai sees marks along his exposed wrists, bruises that bloom dark purple and yellow on his skin. Signs of a struggle, held together when the killer raised him up far enough to impale him through the stone. Even with two men, he can't see how it would be possible to apply such force to pierce through it. Definitely something he hasn't seen before.

“I need you to look again Hiroshi. Is this the samurai your father spoke of?” 

Peeking from behind his hands, he looks up for a brief moment. “Y-yeah, that’s him.” 

“And your brothers, did they die this way too?”

“No… they looked…” He hesitates, struggling to find the words. “They looked different...they looked like husks.”

“Husks?” Iwai repeats, as if he’s misheard him. 

“There was no blood. It was like...something, completely drained them.” 

He takes a step back and sighs. With each new piece to the puzzle, the jigsaw expands, becoming increasingly difficult. Solving mysteries has never been his strength. He came here on the pretence he would have to do one job, something quick and easy. He was a fool for taking on this bounty. The high reward should’ve made him ask questions.  

“Have you finished looking?” Hiroshi asks after he finishes examining the area. 

“Yeah.” There’s no more evidence he can find in the area. 

“Before we leave...We... can't just leave him up there.” 

“You seriously think you can lift him up on your own?”

“No...probably not on my own.” Red blooms on his cheeks. “Could you help me?”

It’s not his mess to clean up. Before he can object, Hiroshi steps forward. The kid can barely look at the corpse, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. It would take him hours to try and lift the samurai up. 

Iwai sighs and rolls his sleeves up. 

‘ _ At least he died in a graveyard _ .’ 

 

\---

 

They return back a few hours later. He half expects to see the disappointed face of Tadochi but the chief is nowhere to be seen. Hiroshi excuses himself, attending to his daily duties. 

Before returning back to the house, he comes to a stop outside a wooden building. There’s hanging rice paper that reads ‘Izakaya’. It’s surprising to him that a bar exists in such a small village, though he supposes that wherever there are people, there are paying customers for alcohol. 

Bars are usually a good place for eavesdropping or gathering information. So far, he’s only had the chance to talk with the chief’s family. It hasn’t gotten him anywhere. Talking to the locals would give him another perspective on the murders.

He steps inside. The conversations in the room come to a sudden halt, eyes turn to him. It’s a good job he’s experienced this scenario many times. Looking around the room he sees that the type of customers pale in comparison to those he’s met in bars before. Farmers drinking in their break time or elderly men who are too ill to work. 

Walking down to the bar, he ignores their stares. From his bag he pulls out his coin back. It feels light. Only three coins left.  Pulling one out, he nudges it forward for the bartender to give him a cup of sake. 

As soon as the drink two people approach his side. Judging by their tattered and soiled outfits, Iwai guesses that their farmers. 

“Hey, you’re here for the bounty, aren’t you?” 

_ No, I’m here for a vacation, idiot.  _ Pursuing his lips, he refrains from speaking his mind. Gathering information was a game and he needs to play nice if he wants to win.  “Yeah.” He replies instead. 

“Can we… can we…” One of the men eyes his side. “Can we take a look at your sword?”

He glances down to his katana. Once he’d regarded it with respect, it would take a lot of convincing for him to present the blade to somebody else. Now he only feels guilt. If he had been to set aside his attachment and been able to sell it, along with his gun, he wouldn’t be here now. 

His fingers run over the handle as the men watch him. The dark green silk that wraps around the handle has become frayed. Despite its appearance, the steel of the blade is still long, perfectly able to strike and tear someone apart. 

Iwai entertains them and hates every moment of it. He imagines this must be what geisha feel like, pretending to be interested. It’s tiring, but eventually it pays off. 

“Everybody round here likes the chief and his family… but… there’s been a few rumours about them.” The farmer looks back to his friend who nods in agreement. “Everybody knows Haruto has been pretty upset about being the second youngest in the family. He’s probably the only one out of his brothers who actually cares about being the chief of Taito.” He speaks quietly, even though his voice still carries around the bar. 

“Upset enough to kill his brothers?” 

“I mean, we don’t know him enough. It’s just somethin we’ve heard.” 

 

\-----

 

When he leaves, the light is starting to fade from the sky. Golden colours paint the sky in long strips, replacing the blues from the day.

Rather than returning back to Tadochi’s house, he walks outside the walls of the village. The farmers are starting to return back inside the village  It’s a quiet spot for him to think. Rumours are just rumours, he needs evidence before he can go to Tadochi with the claim that one of his sons is responsible. At least he isn’t wandering around aimlessly, its lead to follow up on. 

He chews his sugar cane, strolling until he spots a familiar face. The boy from last night. 

He wears the same clothes, walking down along the path leads back to the village. It’s the same path he used to get here.  _ Must have come back from whether he needed to go.  _ Before he can stop himself, he meanders over to him. 

“Afternoon Iwai-san.”

“Afternoon…. Wait, I don’t know ya name… What’s your name?” 

“Akira Kurusu.” His name sounds awfully normal, he doesn’t know why he expects it to be anything different. “You looked like you were in deep in thought.” Akira notices, attempting to start a conversation. Normally he wouldn’t bother, but Akira is still on his list of suspects. 

“Yeah, guess I was.” They start to walk together, around the wall of the village. By now all the farmers have returned back inside the village, leaving them alone. 

“Did anything happen today?”

“Yeah, we found the samurai. Safe to say he won't be leaving the graveyard.” His dark humour usually earns him with a scolding. Akira’s eyebrows knit in confusion instead. “That’s not what I expected to happen.” 

“What, you and the villagers taking bets now?” 

“No, I…” He hesitates, bringing a hand up to his hair to run through his black wavy locks. He’s quiet for awhile, as if he’s deciding on what to say. “I’m also here to help find the person responsible.”

Iwai stands still in surprise. “You’re here for the bounty too?” 

“No… not the money, I don’t care about that.” 

“Then, what then? Don’t say out of the kindness of your heart.” 

He flashes a smile. “Is that so hard to believe?” 

It is. He regards Akira and tries to look again for any signs of deceit. It was a convenient enough excuse to make up, to align himself close to the murders whilst pretending to be a concerned citizen and not the killer haunting the village. 

“So, last night, that was you snoopin’ around?” 

“You caught me red handed.” He starts to walk again. Iwai joins him after the first few steps, hanging back this time to check Akira again. No weapons, the same as last night.

“I’m here to help and like I said, sometimes it’s good to talk with somebody else. I might have some information to offer too.” 

“More ghost stories?” 

“No.” Another smile. Iwai feels like he’s racking up quite a high score. Other than Karou, people hardly ever genuinely smile around him. 

“What did you make of the dead samurai?” 

The image springs back to his mind. Bloody. Violent. An unnecessary death. An inconvenience. “I think…that the killer was trying to send some kinda message. Nobody gets killed that violently unless its personal or… they’re trying to warn somebody off.” 

“Somebody perhaps being anybody who tries to interfere?” 

It makes sense to him. Rival clan members would do it all the time. Capture another member and present their body for the other to see. A warning to the other. 

“So a warning for me.” The realisation ought to unsettle him. He only stops walking when Akira stops. Looking into his eyes, he’s reminded of the night before when he first saw them. 

“Probably.” Iwai follows his hand when he raises it to touch his bottom lip. “I have a theory on the motive of the killer but I don’t know if it’s correct anymore after the samurai.”

“Tell me anyway.” 

“So far, two of Tadochi’s sons have been killed. It might only be a coincidence, but they’ve died in a particular order. Rio, the oldest and then Daisuke, the second oldest. If my theory is correct then Nori will be the next.”

“Why would the murderer care about killin’ in order?” The question hangs in the air, allowing him the time to ponder it. He thinks about the previous conversation he had with the people at the bar. The order of sons. The order of succession. The eldest was always first to inherit power or fortune. He looks back at Akita, who watches him with encouragement. Guiding him towards the answer. “That would be stupid, it’s too obvious.”

“Would it? You didn’t know until I pointed it out.” There’s no trace of smugness, just faint amusement. 

“Tch, well if not me then somebody else who's smarter.”

“Iwai-san!’ A voice calls out to him from on top of the wall. Craning his head up he sees the face of a panting guard. “The chief wishes to see you urgently.” 

They’re close to the wooden gates

Cursing under his breath, he starts to walk towards the wooden gates. Part of him assumes Akira will follow, but when he glances around he's standing still. Tadochi is waiting for him when he steps inside the house. He looks smaller than usual, features drawn in tight with worry. 

“I’m sorry to call you out like this… but my other son…. Nori, he’s been-” The expression on his face crumbles and tears flow down his cheeks. 

His hands tighten into fists. It can’t be that obvious.  

“Where did he go last?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! There's probably alot of inaccuracies for the time period that this takes place (edo), but I'm not sticking too much to it. I'm still carrying over the 'slang' that Iwai uses, which I'm sure wouldn't be around for the time. I'm also aware that this story is a bit of a random idea, but once the idea got stuck in my head, I couldn't get it out. ^^ Thanks for reading!


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